


See You, Cowboy.

by blerdxlines



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Escort the Payload, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Missions, Other, Pet Names, Snipers, Sorta Breaking the Fourth Wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-04-24 00:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blerdxlines/pseuds/blerdxlines
Summary: During a match your teammates are defending the payload and your mission is to pick off the attacking team, undiscovered. All is well until your old pal Jesse McCree ambushes you, forcing you into a situation that you've been trying desperately to avoid.





	See You, Cowboy.

**Author's Note:**

> Y/N - Your first name
> 
> Just in case that wasn't clear, you, the reader, are a hero in Overwatch.

You stood, leaned over the window pane, glancing around anxiously for your enemies to arrive.

At this exact moment, your teammates are all ambushing the enemy's payload, sending them running for cover, right into your rifle’s range. You'd surely get play of the game if this all panned out.

The sound of frenzied yells and frantic shots ring through the air as the brouhaha approaches and as they draw within your sights you found yourself counting down the number of enemies until my perfect time to strike.  
_1- Mercy, 2- Reinhardt, 3- Lúcio, 4- D.Va, 5-Tracer and... that's it?_

It isn't often that teams went in without a front line soldier, but more kills for you, you suppose.

" **_Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!_ **" Hanzo shouted and you caught a glimpse of the twin dragons peeking over a building's of Dorado, your soon-to-be-enemy-casualties started your way. Without even being a second to lose, you picked them all off --head-shot by head-shot by head-shot.

"All forces ready, contesting the payload." Your designated captain, Ashe, whistled in your ear.

Her plan was a success, now you just needed to reload and change locations, just in case one of your enemies gets wise and tries to snuff you out.

The faint jingle of a spur echoed behind you and before you were able to pull your rifle from it's tactical stand, you were stunned. A flashbang followed by a sly whistle. "Whoa there! It's just me, darlin'."

You recognized that thick Southern drawl and realized your greatest mistakes:

  1. Letting the enemy get the drop on you.
  2. Ever deciding to befriend Jesse McCree.



You grunted, unable to move any part of your body for the time being, your sight a hazy blur as well. "Sorry 'bout the stun. I'm fast but your trigger finger's just a hair faster." His metal hand slid down your hip, emptying all the ammo from your back pouches.

As the effects of the stun began to waver, you uttered, "If you were really sorry you wouldn't be running my pockets right now, McCree." He chuckled. "Well, we _are_ enemies, ain't we?"

There's a brief silence between you as you consider your next words, Jesse fills it by jangling across the room and seating himself on a stool in the corner. By this point, the effects of the stun are mostly worn off and you're able to stand up straight and face him. He's got your rifle leaned on the floor against his leg and flashes you charming wink from under the brim of his hat.

Your enemies could be returning any minute now so you get straight to the point.

"Do you plan on returning my rifle Mc--" "-- Ain't you a sight for sore eyes?" You groan deflatedly. It's clear he has no intention to keep things business as usual. "It ain't nothing short of a miracle that I happened to find you here. Lookin' all dolled up and merciless for old Jesse?" His sweet nothings in that syrupy, southern twang warm your cheeks.

" _Damn it-- where are you Y/N? We need you to clear the area so we can get in and contes--_ **_Aggh_**!!" Ashe's communications died out.

That was enough to snap you from the effects of McCree's untimely flirtation, you glance out the window to see the payload moving.

"What do you want McCree?" Impatience tinged your voice. McCree suavely kicks his feet out and presses his back against the wall, waving you over. "C'mon over." Although reluctantly, you approach him, still unsure of his motives.

"Take a seat. Make yourself comfy." He pat his knee as his other hand firmly grasped your rifle. "It'll only be a second, honey bee. Then I'll let you go."

_Damn him and his trusting, over affectionate personality._

You sit on his knee and his free hand rests on your hip. You look away, arms crossed in frustration, and what could be more closely related to embarrassment. "You remember that nice lil' thing we used to do, don't ya?" You glance into his eyes, but your focus doesn't last too long once you understand his reference. Your ears burned as you gave a defeated sigh, shaking your head. "Shut up, Jesse."

Jesse smiles brightly, proud of his ability to put you in such a flustered state. "Go ahead and start for me." He moves his hand from your rifle in favor of pulling off his hat and holding it against his chest, leaning his head down. You begin, running your fingers through his dull, brown tresses as you hum to the tune of Silent Night. Jesse slowly closes his eyes and a gentle smile curls up on his lips as he listens. As you watch, you think back to the very last time you did this.

You hung back and chilling when you should've been skirmishing, you were in this exact same map, room, and seat when Jesse planted a kiss surprise on you. After that you decided to call your friendship off and do everything you could to leave every match he'd _coincidentally_ join for the following months.

The song came to and end but you find Jesse's hand still clutching you, as if he didn't want it to end. "I'm sorry if I hurt you way back when, Y/N. It was wrong for me to up and kiss you like that."

You're a little surprised that he admitted that-- Jesse McCree was many things: a smooth talker, a gunslinger, and a criminal, but apologetic was not on his resume. "I'm not mad at you for kissing me anymore, McCree."

He stared up at you, taken aback by your statement. He'd truly believed that the reason you were avoiding him was because he'd misinterpreted your feelings for him.

"Just give some warning next time you wanna plant some second hand smoke on me." He let out a billowing laugh, and admittedly, you had a bit of a laugh too. It felt good to be on good terms with him again. You know this whole thing is just to calm him down a little before matches, but it brought you a little happiness too.

His hand squeezed at your side. "Well you know, pumpkin. I ain't been smoking on cigars much nowadays." He gives a sly smirk. "I'll be the judge of that." He bites his lip, trying to quell his sly grin as you both lean in, lips approaching, excitement growing when suddenly you grab a flashbang from his belt followed by a loud **POP!**

He's frozen-- his eyes shooting open in shock. You stand up and grab your rifle, the ammo from his pockets, and his Peacekeeper. He simply grunts and watches in surprise as you offer a mischievous smirk, slipping his hat from his grasp and it onto your head. You climb into the open window, quipping before dropping down.

"See you, cowboy."


End file.
